


Werewolf Hunting

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Category: Glee
Genre: Alive Finn Hudson, First Kiss, Fuckurt Trope Bingo, Fuckurt Week, Injury, M/M, Summer Camp, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ohio Werewolf of Delphos doesn't eat hamburger meat, and other valuable lessons learned at summer camp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Werewolf Hunting

**Author's Note:**

> Fuckurt Trope Bingo Square: Summer Camp

**Summer of 2002**

Puck leans over and touches his toes twice while they stand in line. “I’m going to get to blue this year,” he says to Finn. “So I can use the high dive!” 

“I’ll probably still be stuck on red. It’s not _my_ fault I sink!” Finn says. 

“You have to move your arms _really_ fast, and keep your head down,” Puck says. “Then they’ll think you’re sinking on purpose, if your head is down.” 

“I can’t kick my legs and move my arms at the same time,” Finn complains. “And I’m tall enough to go in the middle-deep part, so I don’t see why I need yellow for that.”

“Maybe if we stand beside each other, when they point, I can say you already went, and just confuse them!” Puck says. “We’re already wet from the showers.” 

“They’ll see my wrist, though, so they’ll know I don’t have a band.”

Puck reaches for Finn’s arm and grabs Finn’s wrist between both of his hands. “You _did_ , but I was scared and ripped it off accidentally.” 

“But if you were that scared, there’s no way they’ll give you blue,” Finn says. 

“They can’t not give it to me if I swim, right? I could sue!” Puck says, even though he’s not entirely sure what it means to sue someone. “We’re eight now!” 

Finn starts to nod his agreement, then stops and sighs loudly. “No, I’d better just take the test. Maybe I’ll do better this year.”

“Just don’t thrash too much so they don’t think you’re drowning or whatever,” Puck says. The pool counselor points to them then, and Puck nods a little. “Okay, you have to cheer for me.” 

“I always cheer for you,” Finn says. 

“ _Extra_ loud,” Puck says as he steps towards the pool. “You have to cheer extra loud.” 

Finn grins and gives Puck a thumbs-up. “Extra loud.”

 

**Summer of 2006**

“Guess what I brought with me this year?” Puck says to Finn as soon as they get to their tent. 

“Extra bug spray?” Finn guesses. “I hope it’s extra bug spray.”

Puck shrugs. “I don’t know, my mom packs that. I brought _shaving cream_!” 

“To shave? At camp?”

“No, to prank people with,” Puck says. “We can sneak into other tents and cover them while they’re asleep.” 

“Can we put it in their hand and then tickle their face with something so they smack themselves?” Finn asks. “That one’s always funny in movies.”

“Yeah, exactly! And we can steal their underwear and stuff, and they won’t think about it, because of the shaving cream part of the prank!” Puck says. “We just have to make sure no one sneaks into _our_ tent.” 

“We’ll double-knot the flaps,” Finn says. 

“We could steal some cans from the kitchen trash and set up an alarm, too,” Puck says. “That way we’d wake up if any skunks came.” 

“Remember in fourth grade when the skunk sprayed near the mess hall?” Finn asks. “That was the worst.”

“I should have looked up what skunks like to eat so we could have put it underneath Larry’s tent,” Puck says with a groan. “You think skunks like peas?” 

Finn shakes his head. “Dude. _Nobody_ likes peas.”

“That gross fruit cocktail?”

“I kinda like the fruit cocktail,” Finn says. 

“Well, _my_ gross fruit cocktail?” Puck asks. 

“And the pink bits from mine. I don’t like those. Fruit isn’t really bright pink like that.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Who else do we want to prank? And we have to not get caught, so it can’t just be Larry.” 

Finn adjusts his Cleveland Indians cap on his head. “How about Strando? He’s a jerk. Remember last year, how he threw sticks at those ducks?”

“We should put duck poop on his tent right before inspection,” Puck says. “With sticks. Then he’d have to skip lake time.” 

“We should put it in his sleeping bag, too.”

Puck laughs. “Did you bring a camera?” 

 

**Summer of 2009**

Puck nudges Finn’s side as Finn starts to roll the tent flap up. “Wait a minute. We have to put the food you brought into the Rubbermaid and I have to label it ‘laundry’ before people see it.” 

“Put ‘dirty laundry’ on it, just in case somebody’s looking for a clean t-shirt or something,” Finn says. 

“I’ll kick their asses if they try to take our food _or_ our t-shirts,” Puck says. “Anyway, if someone stole one of yours, we’d be able to tell by looking at them.” 

Finn laughs. “Yeah, I guess I _am_ the tallest CIT here this year.”

“I think you’re taller than the staff, dude,” Puck points out. “At least Strando finally stopped coming to camp.” 

“Probably all that duck poop.” 

“Those are the _best_ pictures. We should print them out a couple of months after school starts,” Puck says. 

“I bet they could be part of some kind of project,” Finn says. “A ‘what I did during summer vacation’ project.”

“History project. Modern history of our summers,” Puck says, grinning at Finn. “We just have to come up with something epic from this year for it.” 

“We should look for the Ohio Werewolf. It would be pretty epic if we got some pictures of him!” Finn says, tying up one flap while Puck starts labeling the bin. 

“What do you think werewolves eat?” Puck asks. 

“Probably hamburger meat,” Finn says. “We could steal some from the mess hall walk-in freezer.”

“So we just have to set up a trap and hide so we can get a picture, right?” Puck says. “The flash’ll scare him off, so we have to take our pictures right after each other.” 

“Yeah. We don’t want him coming after us!”

“We can tie bandanas around our faces so we don’t show up too well, either,” Puck says. “Your face is kind of bright even at night.” 

“Maybe I’ll tan this year,” Finn says. 

“You say that every year, and every year, your mom has to send you money for a bottle of aloe vera from the camp store,” Puck says. 

“This year could be my year!” Finn insists. “Maybe if you just believe me in enough, it’ll happen.”

Puck laughs. “You’ve got a lot of faith in my mental powers, dude.”

“Yeah. Duh.”

“Okay, I’ll try to picture you all bronzed with highlights. Sound good?” 

Finn grins. “Can you picture some muscles, too?”

 

 **Summer of 2012**

Puck knows that almost everyone in Lima thinks he’s already in L.A., but he’s actually at camp working for the summer before he leaves Ohio. It’s the weirdest summer, being staff and being there without Finn, but it’s where he spends the summer, anyway. Finn’s at Basic and Puck figures that’s something he’s got to get used to. 

Still, he’d be lying if he didn’t expect to see Finn, which is why he doubts his own sight when he herds the campers towards the mess hall for lunch and sees someone that looks an awful lot like Finn near the door. As they get closer, Puck realizes it actually is Finn, which doesn’t make any sense, but he sends the campers inside and detours towards Finn. 

“Hey,” Finn says, limping in Puck’s direction. “I didn’t know if you’d be here or not.”

“You didn’t know if _I’d_ be here?” Puck says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing at the leg Finn’s favoring. “I didn’t think you’d be here for, what? Four years?” 

Finn shrugs. “Guess a lot of stuff didn’t work out like we planned it.”

“You staying or do I need to pawn the rugrats off on someone else for the afternoon?” Puck grins. “Or both?” 

“Figured I’d stick around,” Finn says. “I don’t exactly have any place else to be, you know?”

“No, but you can tell me about it. What’s with the limp?” Puck asks. 

“Kinda got shot a little.”

Puck stops and squints at Finn. “Dude. You were just in Basic. How the hell?” 

“Okay, maybe I kinda shot myself a little,” Finn says. “Accidentally.”

“I—How the hell still applies,” Puck says, starting to walk away from the mess hall. “Someone’ll cover for me. So you somehow managed that and then they let you leave?” 

“Yeah, just go on and make fun of me, like I don’t feel stupid enough already,” Finn says, limping along after Puck. 

“I’m not laughing!” Puck protests. “I’m just, whatever that word is. Dumbfounded.” 

“And I guess I’m just dumb, huh?”

“Are you going to take offense at _everything_?” Puck asks. “You’re not AWOL or anything, was all I meant.” 

“No, they discharged me,” Finn says. “Sorry. I just feel stupid enough as it is.”

“Well, you’re in luck, there’s no one else in my tent,” Puck says. 

“They didn’t stick you with the smelly guy?”

“I, uh, maybe told them I thought you were showing up late, so they wouldn’t,” Puck says. “I just didn’t really think it was true.” 

“I didn’t have anything else lined up, so I figured I might as well come back to camp. I thought you’d be in L.A. by now, though,” Finn says. 

“Who would believe me even if I told them I was spending the summer here first?” Puck says. He pauses long enough to grab the bigger of Finn’s bags from him before they continue down the trail. “Not too late for you to come out with me.” 

“You sure?” Finn asks. “You really want a guy who shot himself in the leg in Basic being your roommate?” 

“Better shooting yourself in Basic than getting shot somewhere else by someone else, right? Anyway, I know you won’t trash the place,” Puck says, grinning at Finn. 

“I’ve never trashed our tent, anyway,” Finn agrees. 

“Only other people’s. We can’t get caught as staff, though,” Puck warns Finn. “And I flat-out brought a lock for the box with food in it, this year.” 

“We could still set up some traps, like we did that one year with the— what was it we were hunting?” Finn asks. “Bigfoot?”

“The Ohio Werewolf,” Puck says. “Remember, all our pictures were blurry and looked more like a fat fox or something.”

“Oh yeah! And remember how we stole, like, _twenty_ pounds of raw hamburger?” Finn says. 

Puck laughs. “Yeah, if we steal any hamburger this year, let’s make sure we can actually eat it.” He points to his tent and then lifts the flap up for Finn. Finn awkwardly steps up onto the platform and drops his bag on a bunk. 

“We definitely won’t leave it out in the sun this time.”

“You seriously want to come out to L.A.?” Puck asks, waiting until Finn sits down and seems to be comfortable before dropping down beside him on the uninjured side.

Finn shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

Puck nudges Finn’s side. “Don’t be too enthusiastic about it.” 

“Sorry,” Finn says. “I mean, sure, I think that sounds like a great plan once camp’s over for the summer.”

Puck snorts. “C’mon, you can’t tell me you’d really rather still be in the Army than here or in L.A.?” 

“Nah, I can’t tell you that,” Finn says as he shakes his head. 

“I mean, I guess if you’d talked me into the Army, that’d be better, but there’s no way I would have given in, even if you’d tried,” Puck says, nudging Finn again. 

Finn laughs and puts an arm around Puck’s shoulders. “It’s better here, for real.”

“You’re going to make me do most of the walking though, huh?” Puck says. “How long until it’s all healed up?” 

“It didn’t hit the bone or anything, but I think it’s still gonna be a while,” Finn says. “Sorry.”

“Infirmary going to be able to handle it, though?” 

“Dude, I went to the hospital. They stitched it up and everything. It’s just that there’s a hole through my leg.”

“Yeah, but don’t you have to avoid infection or something?” Puck asks. “Wash with antibacterial soap?” 

“I have antibiotics,” Finn says. “It’s fine. Seriously.”

“What about the puncture wound disease? They gave you that shot?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not supposed to go in any lakes or pools for a while.”

“Maybe you should let me look at it. What if the hospital didn’t stitch it right? You want to find that out now and not later,” Puck says. 

“Uh, I think probably the doctor knows more about stitches than you,” Finn says. 

Puck frowns. “Did you see his license? Or hers? Are you sure they were really a doctor? I bet it wasn’t even a plastic surgeon. You probably let a nurse with less than two years of college stitch you up.” 

“Oh my god, _fine_!” Finn says, yanking up the leg of his shorts. “Look at my wound! Judge my stitches!”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no, it was not a plastic surgeon’,” Puck says, carefully pulling up the tape holding the gauze on Finn’s leg. “I’m just looking out for you. Geez.” 

“Just don’t poke it.”

“Why would I poke it? That’d be mean.” Puck looks up and frowns at Finn again. “I guess they look decent enough. Are you supposed to put anything on it?” 

“I’ve got some kind of ointment stuff,” Finn says. 

“You need to put more on before I put the gauze back on?” Puck asks. He traces a wide circle around the wound, making sure it doesn’t feel too tight or hot. He avoids touching the actual stitches, since they’re probably still sore. 

Finn nods and leans over, digging into his smaller bag until he finds a tube, which he holds up for Puck to see. “It’s bacto-something.”

“You want me to?” 

“You don’t mind?”

Puck grabs the tube from Finn and flips up the top. “Figure you’re probably already tired of dealing with it, right?” 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Finn says. “Just don’t poke.”

“Have I poked yet? I’m not going to hurt you,” Puck says, sticking his tongue out at Finn. 

“Yeah, I know,” Finn concedes. 

“Or, well, not on purpose,” Puck adds. He probably uses a little too much of the ointment, but he doesn’t want to have to use too much pressure to spread it. He wipes his finger further down on Finn’s leg and then puts the gauze back over it. “We can tell people you got mugged or something.” 

“We could tell them it was the Ohio Werewolf of Delphos,” Finn counters. 

“That way they’ll really believe the mugging story as the ‘true’ story when they doubt the werewolf story?” Puck shrugs. “Good thinking. Did I hurt you?” 

“Nope,” Finn says, pushing the legs of his shorts back down over the bandaged wound. 

“See?” Puck says. “Did you stop by Lima, get your mom to do that kiss it and make it better thing?” 

Finn shakes his head. “Nah, nobody knows I’m out yet. I kinda wasn’t ready to see them, you know?”

“Yeah, I know, or I wouldn’t be here,” Puck points out. “You want me to?” 

“Kiss it better?” Finn asks. He looks surprised, his eyebrows rising. 

“Won’t get better otherwise, right?” Puck says with a small smile. Finn smiles back tentatively.

“I guess you oughta, then.”

“Might have to proxy-kiss it, I guess, so you don’t get an infection,” Puck says. “Don’t you think?” 

“Maybe,” Finn says. “Proxy-kiss where? Other leg?”

Puck doesn’t say anything right away, then figures he’s already pretty far into it. “Is your other leg dying for a kiss? Proxy can be pretty much anywhere, I figure.” 

“Well, I mean, it _is_ the smarter leg, obviously,” Finn says. 

“Smarter?” Puck asks. 

“Smart enough to not get shot.”

Puck snorts. “I was thinking someplace slightly different.” 

“My elbow?” Finn says, holding up one elbow, then the other. “Other elbow?”

“Not there either,” Puck says, shaking his head and swallowing once. 

“Nose?”

“Is that a place you typically get a lot of kisses?” 

“Not usually,” Finn says. 

“So were you wanting you branch out, then? Or should I just go for tried and true?” Puck asks, trying not to grin. Finn shrugs. “You trust me?” 

“Of course,” Finn says, already nodding. 

“Okay,” Puck says quietly, and he closes his eyes as he leans towards Finn, kissing Finn’s lips softly. Finn makes a little noise and leans forward into the kiss. Puck shifts, putting one hand on the back of Finn’s neck, and kisses Finn a little harder. 

Finn is just moving enough to put his arm around Puck’s waist when a camper’s voice shouts, “Counselor Puck? It’s time for canoes, and Counselor Jim can’t unlock the boat rack!”

Puck pulls away and snorts. “Counselor Jim is useless.” 

“Guess we’d better go take care of the canoe situation,” Finn says. “Come back and try this again later?”

“I think we should definitely keep the flaps closed, is all I’m saying.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “It’ll probably cut down on the skunk problem, too.”


End file.
